The moulding wetness of the last few weeks had dried to a fine autumnal haze, a midpoint twixt a fleeting summer and the oncoming hibernatory season. Crispy deadness scrunching through summer's memories as I shuffle off to work.
My internal balance found once more as I shed my own-made obstacles in favour of a freeness of spirit. My last winter fed me sea and salt while summer faded too early. Sun baked warmth leeching from tanned flesh faster than it should.
But naught to fear since the cinnamon call sings persistently in the back brain waiting for opportunity to arrive.
Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stuff. Show all posts
Sep 27, 2010
Aug 29, 2010
rainy echoes
of fresh springtime mornings with overtones of almost ready for death, pungent earthy and all too real. Summer fades in and out daily, teasing the serotonin and fucking with the olfactory definitions. It feels like autumn, smells like spring and should be the full blown glory of late summer harvest.
achoo!
ahhhh. there it is. Some randomly escaped pollen or grain dust that has wended its way through the catapulting drops just to let me know it really is still summer.
The children all go back to school tomorrow and the world will ring with the stank of fear and occasional incontinence on buses locked away from life over summer while mothers do their joyous "the house is mine" dances and the neighbours' dogs wander lazy through their yards without no worry of debris pelting them from over the fence. At least until 3 oclock.
achoo!
ahhhh. there it is. Some randomly escaped pollen or grain dust that has wended its way through the catapulting drops just to let me know it really is still summer.
The children all go back to school tomorrow and the world will ring with the stank of fear and occasional incontinence on buses locked away from life over summer while mothers do their joyous "the house is mine" dances and the neighbours' dogs wander lazy through their yards without no worry of debris pelting them from over the fence. At least until 3 oclock.
Jun 18, 2010
textures
Live sun warmed mahogany, supple and smooth yet strong and flexible with its years solidly rooted in the here and now. Aubergine rich bitterness until salted raising questions all along the taste buds. Doubled velvet so soft it mimics fur without the sneezing. Melodious tones and belly warming chuckles that ignite a smile from the inside out. Spicy hot aromas floating from the kitchen playing olfactory tug of war with the cinnamon of flesh and murmurs from the deeps.
May 27, 2010
today is a full moon
I always want to go out and howl this time in the lunar cysle, and often find myself having gone that extra step or two over the line, usually with video proof, ecause I always tell the peeps that they are exaggerating. Gotta love technology ;) But then I have a camera TOO>
Wish me luck - I have to get through an entire 3 day weekend in the rain. I know I'm drip dry but honestly ... what about the hair?
Wish me luck - I have to get through an entire 3 day weekend in the rain. I know I'm drip dry but honestly ... what about the hair?
May 9, 2010
Mom's day
I miss my mom with all my heart. Sometimes I don't think about her for weeks on end I'm sure, and that's okay, she's been gone almost 18 years. But then there are those moments when I get a flash out of the corner of my eye and I am absolutely positive to the center of my being that she just turned a corner down the street.
And there I stand frozen, amid the rush of downtown pedestrians, lost in enough misery it's all I can do to stand there and not sob. An island of emptiness in the flow of everyday life. It fades, what seems like hours was only a minute or two, but damn.
And then there are the occasions like my grandotter's 10th birthday that I really wish she could have celebrated with us. She would have been so proud of the job Amanda is doing and loved Miss Devi to bits.
I was at the park yesterday watching some families of geese with the teeny newborn goslings all fluffy yellow and got a warm fuzzy thinking that mom would have been taking that picture too.
Mom, your image may not be in my brain any longer but your laughter will forever peal in my heart and your compassion is a constant reminder to live doing the least damage.
Love you always.
And there I stand frozen, amid the rush of downtown pedestrians, lost in enough misery it's all I can do to stand there and not sob. An island of emptiness in the flow of everyday life. It fades, what seems like hours was only a minute or two, but damn.
And then there are the occasions like my grandotter's 10th birthday that I really wish she could have celebrated with us. She would have been so proud of the job Amanda is doing and loved Miss Devi to bits.
I was at the park yesterday watching some families of geese with the teeny newborn goslings all fluffy yellow and got a warm fuzzy thinking that mom would have been taking that picture too.
Mom, your image may not be in my brain any longer but your laughter will forever peal in my heart and your compassion is a constant reminder to live doing the least damage.
Love you always.
May 5, 2010
listening
The meter of raindrops hitting pavement, air redolent with new grown grass.
Radiators in the last throws of k-chinking before their seasonal nap.
Creaks in moisture locked doors and squeaky winter locked windows.
Morning surprise,
a whitened world, crunchy underneath quickly melting slightly frozen water.
My sunshine is still missing.
Radiators in the last throws of k-chinking before their seasonal nap.
Creaks in moisture locked doors and squeaky winter locked windows.
Morning surprise,
a whitened world, crunchy underneath quickly melting slightly frozen water.
My sunshine is still missing.
May 2, 2010
contrariness
So we had a great long conversation today - much like all of our previous conversations even though we haven't spoken in a week. I haven't called because I don't really know if I should be, given the circumstances and trying to be diplomatic. Apparently he didn't call because he wasn't sure if he should be intruding in my life after our last convo even though he said he'd call.
So we're both thinking about each other and doing nothing about it.
Fucking ridiculous.
I think we've managed to sort that out anyway.
Chatting about the music he's listening to, a great reggae beat, he explains that it's all about the feeling and the lyric and what it means. It's not something to just pop along in your car to but something to really pay attention to. The singer is tellin' a woman he's always there for her - she's never alone, she can always call on him and the woman answers that she will always be fine because she knows she's never alone, cause he'll always be there on the other end of the line. Just lyrics?
Then we talked about trust and real friendship and politeness and treating people decently and not making judgements without knowing who the people are and giving them a chance to show that their inside doesn't always match the outside. Sure some people are whom they seem on first glance but most of us are so much more. So again we have pretty much the same opinion about how to treat people, with respect until they prove differently.
And then threads back to not having many real friends cause then you have to trust them, and most people aren't trustworthy. A point of contention. Maybe not most but I think that that is a healthy percentage of trustworthy folk out there - well most days.
And then a lot of other stuff about violence and boxing and hockey and back to music, and driving, and age, oh and some chain pulling, and gardens.
So we're both thinking about each other and doing nothing about it.
Fucking ridiculous.
I think we've managed to sort that out anyway.
Chatting about the music he's listening to, a great reggae beat, he explains that it's all about the feeling and the lyric and what it means. It's not something to just pop along in your car to but something to really pay attention to. The singer is tellin' a woman he's always there for her - she's never alone, she can always call on him and the woman answers that she will always be fine because she knows she's never alone, cause he'll always be there on the other end of the line. Just lyrics?
Then we talked about trust and real friendship and politeness and treating people decently and not making judgements without knowing who the people are and giving them a chance to show that their inside doesn't always match the outside. Sure some people are whom they seem on first glance but most of us are so much more. So again we have pretty much the same opinion about how to treat people, with respect until they prove differently.
And then threads back to not having many real friends cause then you have to trust them, and most people aren't trustworthy. A point of contention. Maybe not most but I think that that is a healthy percentage of trustworthy folk out there - well most days.
And then a lot of other stuff about violence and boxing and hockey and back to music, and driving, and age, oh and some chain pulling, and gardens.
Apr 20, 2010
the tower of solitude
Once upon a time there was a young woman who opened her heart to all and sundry. It got trampled. Over and over and over. She kept on putting it out there and it kept getting thumped on and broken and cracked and burned and yet it kept on working and she just kept on opening the door in search of happyness. Try as she might - she could never find that one person that everyone kept telling her was out there waiting for her. She thought she had a few times, but she was wrong, and those were some of the worst heart rendings because the ones she found had MOST of what she was looking for, but they were to far flawed, but still she made it through. Her heart was a little raggedy when she glimpsed certain profiles out the corner of her eye, there were pieces missing that she would never recover because she had given them away never to be returned, and there were a few dead patches where the burns had never really recovered after the torching of the original heartland, but the majority was still pumping away and attempting continuous self repair.
The last serious "friendship" she engaged in was based on just that friendship and shared joy. It worked for a while, neither side wanting the permanency of the whole living together thing. It was great for her, but he was quite a bit older and eventually wanted to find someone more in tune generationally. The more mature yet still young at heart woman took it harder than she had imagined because the heart strings had not followed orders and gotten tangled up in some minor chords when they were told to stay silent. The untangling was sharply painful for a short time and after that the woman decided fuck it - enough.
She built her tower back up (the foundations were still there from teenhood and two divorces) - where the heart can be defended and not defeated. She isolated herself from those intimate friendships that only lead to heartache. Sick of pain, she detested the wrack of self doubt that was the end of every such friendship because no matter what they said she always felt it was something about her. She embraced the abnegation of society's dictum that every woman NEEDS a man, or at least that special partner in her life.
For almost seven years she kept true to that isolation. Sure it was lonely sometimes. Sure she missed the intimate companionship of that "someone special", but those momentary lapses didn't even begin to copmare to the benefits of growing a whole new set of real friendships, of determining what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, purchasing her first home, or being truly single for the first time since she was 16. Learning to live with all her good and bad parts and working through decades of previous resentment and regret until she could stand on the top of the tower and see for miles and miles an miles and maybe - look herself straight in a mirror. Oh yeah.
The last couple of years in tower she started to build a deck at the base, inviting a select minority close enough for the heart strings to perk up. Then she began to wonder if the self imposed solitude wasn't now more of a hindrance or an escape instead of a haven of safety. She eventually decided that the tower would have to come down, and not being one for general procrastination, timber... and away it went.
Starting over. So there she was, kind of shiny and new, still tentative about her physical self but grounded spiritually and on balance (for the most part) emotionally. She took the big step and was truly joyful that she had, but it opened other doors long shuttered.
And then she met a gentleman who had also been spending time in a self imposed tower, and the door to his seemed to be swinging open. A quirky coincidence in a world full of them. They looked each other right in the eye and they weren't strangers. They spent long hours on the phone and talked about everything under the sun: politics, culture, music, framily, even religion all sprinkled with interjections that both cherished their independence and did not want a "relationship" because both had been burned before. He made her smile and laugh and feel womanly, and his laugh was a smooth deep rumble that came right from the belly. When they were together the sparks flew, phantasmagorical would be a good word.
Then he called her because he had this gut feeling that she was interested in some one else - NOT. She hadn't even looked, she denied it. He only half believed her - he told her directly. She was seriously confused. Where the hell did that come from? They'd spoken just Yesterday and seen each other less than a week before. After much discussion he admitted he was stressed because maybe he was becoming too "attached" to her.
Figures: Everything was going too well, everything fit. But he was completely freaked about it growing into a "relationship" in which he was sure he would get burned. She had assured him at the beginning that she wasn't looking for the "commitment". He saw that the more time they spent together the more attached he became and since historically he always got burned, he did not want to work through that pain ever again - that was why he built his tower in the first place. Both of them thought they could be "really" good friends without commitment to more than intimate exclusivity. He finally decided to believe that she was truth telling when she said he was the only one. She tried to get him to understand that just because she was not actively looking for that "relationship", that didn't mean she was adverse to considering it if it happened to develop. He said it'll hurt even more if it lasts a year. The intimacy that they had been sharing had grown despite their denials, it had become more than "just casual".
He told her he really cared for her,it was all him and his fear of betrayal. But they could still talk on the phone right? She told him how much she enjoyed the conversations and said yes. Then he asked, "we're still good friends right, so they could go out for drinks, or visit each other. Do things more slowly"
And she was confused: was the intimate part of the friendship ending because he was more afraid of the possible future pain and did he think that if they stopped the physical part of their friendship the attachment would go away?". Because as far as she was concerned their conversations just made the attachment all that much deeper - but maybe it was different for him.
And he hoped she wasn't angry and she was still his friend.
And she started hauling stone for a new tower of her own.
The last serious "friendship" she engaged in was based on just that friendship and shared joy. It worked for a while, neither side wanting the permanency of the whole living together thing. It was great for her, but he was quite a bit older and eventually wanted to find someone more in tune generationally. The more mature yet still young at heart woman took it harder than she had imagined because the heart strings had not followed orders and gotten tangled up in some minor chords when they were told to stay silent. The untangling was sharply painful for a short time and after that the woman decided fuck it - enough.
She built her tower back up (the foundations were still there from teenhood and two divorces) - where the heart can be defended and not defeated. She isolated herself from those intimate friendships that only lead to heartache. Sick of pain, she detested the wrack of self doubt that was the end of every such friendship because no matter what they said she always felt it was something about her. She embraced the abnegation of society's dictum that every woman NEEDS a man, or at least that special partner in her life.
For almost seven years she kept true to that isolation. Sure it was lonely sometimes. Sure she missed the intimate companionship of that "someone special", but those momentary lapses didn't even begin to copmare to the benefits of growing a whole new set of real friendships, of determining what she wanted to do with the rest of her life, purchasing her first home, or being truly single for the first time since she was 16. Learning to live with all her good and bad parts and working through decades of previous resentment and regret until she could stand on the top of the tower and see for miles and miles an miles and maybe - look herself straight in a mirror. Oh yeah.
The last couple of years in tower she started to build a deck at the base, inviting a select minority close enough for the heart strings to perk up. Then she began to wonder if the self imposed solitude wasn't now more of a hindrance or an escape instead of a haven of safety. She eventually decided that the tower would have to come down, and not being one for general procrastination, timber... and away it went.
Starting over. So there she was, kind of shiny and new, still tentative about her physical self but grounded spiritually and on balance (for the most part) emotionally. She took the big step and was truly joyful that she had, but it opened other doors long shuttered.
And then she met a gentleman who had also been spending time in a self imposed tower, and the door to his seemed to be swinging open. A quirky coincidence in a world full of them. They looked each other right in the eye and they weren't strangers. They spent long hours on the phone and talked about everything under the sun: politics, culture, music, framily, even religion all sprinkled with interjections that both cherished their independence and did not want a "relationship" because both had been burned before. He made her smile and laugh and feel womanly, and his laugh was a smooth deep rumble that came right from the belly. When they were together the sparks flew, phantasmagorical would be a good word.
Then he called her because he had this gut feeling that she was interested in some one else - NOT. She hadn't even looked, she denied it. He only half believed her - he told her directly. She was seriously confused. Where the hell did that come from? They'd spoken just Yesterday and seen each other less than a week before. After much discussion he admitted he was stressed because maybe he was becoming too "attached" to her.
Figures: Everything was going too well, everything fit. But he was completely freaked about it growing into a "relationship" in which he was sure he would get burned. She had assured him at the beginning that she wasn't looking for the "commitment". He saw that the more time they spent together the more attached he became and since historically he always got burned, he did not want to work through that pain ever again - that was why he built his tower in the first place. Both of them thought they could be "really" good friends without commitment to more than intimate exclusivity. He finally decided to believe that she was truth telling when she said he was the only one. She tried to get him to understand that just because she was not actively looking for that "relationship", that didn't mean she was adverse to considering it if it happened to develop. He said it'll hurt even more if it lasts a year. The intimacy that they had been sharing had grown despite their denials, it had become more than "just casual".
He told her he really cared for her,it was all him and his fear of betrayal. But they could still talk on the phone right? She told him how much she enjoyed the conversations and said yes. Then he asked, "we're still good friends right, so they could go out for drinks, or visit each other. Do things more slowly"
And she was confused: was the intimate part of the friendship ending because he was more afraid of the possible future pain and did he think that if they stopped the physical part of their friendship the attachment would go away?". Because as far as she was concerned their conversations just made the attachment all that much deeper - but maybe it was different for him.
And he hoped she wasn't angry and she was still his friend.
And she started hauling stone for a new tower of her own.
Apr 14, 2010
mmm mmm good
Amazing how every friendship you have evolves through the dynamic that you share. Transported to places never even imagined. Knowledge that you assumed was held by everyone over the age of 25, is not. Slap. About face.
Personal experience mirrors his in some ways and yet in others I am apparently from an entirely foreign planet. Talk about disconcertingly enticing. Murky with mystery, sharp with risk, and sweet with anticipation, an argentinian tango playing over a deep reggae beat. Ground and grounded. I want you but on my terms, are they the same as your terms, I want to keep my independence and I want you to keep yours, and you want yours and mine but come here for a bit, and now I'm busy you're busy, telephone tag, waiting for a call, ending a call, hours on the phone, wanting it all and not at all. Big secrets little funnies, history and future plans, family, friends, enemies, work, home, and holiday, all up for discussion.
Touch, the gentle fire brighter than a nuclear storm. Soul watching bright eyes. A gentle pressure in the middle of your back, a finger along a jawline, a brush of a hip as you turn a corner. Breath in your hair, the grasp of a wrist and the softest kiss hello/goodbye/seeyousoon.
all wound up in a single tasty package.
Personal experience mirrors his in some ways and yet in others I am apparently from an entirely foreign planet. Talk about disconcertingly enticing. Murky with mystery, sharp with risk, and sweet with anticipation, an argentinian tango playing over a deep reggae beat. Ground and grounded. I want you but on my terms, are they the same as your terms, I want to keep my independence and I want you to keep yours, and you want yours and mine but come here for a bit, and now I'm busy you're busy, telephone tag, waiting for a call, ending a call, hours on the phone, wanting it all and not at all. Big secrets little funnies, history and future plans, family, friends, enemies, work, home, and holiday, all up for discussion.
Touch, the gentle fire brighter than a nuclear storm. Soul watching bright eyes. A gentle pressure in the middle of your back, a finger along a jawline, a brush of a hip as you turn a corner. Breath in your hair, the grasp of a wrist and the softest kiss hello/goodbye/seeyousoon.
all wound up in a single tasty package.
Mar 6, 2010
the devil inside
I now find myself attempting to come to grips with an old familiar not seen for many moons. With the release of the demon and the grand opening of passion into my life, comes an entire host of physiological, emotional and mental gymnastics that have not been plaguing me for well over 6 years.
The choice to remain celibate began as an option to figure my own shit out. Having finally realized the optimum relationship - that being one that ends with my dignity, relative emotional capacity, and wallet still in hand, as well as several friends to lean on should the need arise, (my habit was to render all other relationships null & void in the pursuit and maintenance of my single intimate relationship) I decided I needed to figure out who the fuck I was at that point, and what was it that I actually wanted to do with the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I may have taken it a tad too far.
The immense personal growth and other successes both creative and financial that I have enjoyed in the ensuing years notwithstanding, I am fair sure now that the last 2 maybe three years have been pure repression due to lack of risk-taking value and fear of failure, peppered with the tasteless truth that I sure as hell didn't want to sleep with what I perceived in the mirror.
Whoa now. Calm yourselves. Let's be honest - we are daily bombarded with the north american image/supposed standard of beauty, so there can be no denying that it will warp some of us - especially when the tide of self confidence is at its lowest and one has detached herself from any intimate relationship for a LONG damn time.
Add to that the true nature of the woman in question, a lusty wench who has embraced the touch and taste and smell of sex since her teens, and had never previously been celibate for mare than - oh I don't know - 6 months tops after a particularly heartbreaking badly ended marriage, and you get an anarchic chaotic pheremonal mess of released estrogenic proportions not often seen in this drear and often passion less society.
So here I am. The urge to merge creating a melodic line with my heartbeat and echoing down my spine with every freaking step I take. It was bad enough (button) when it was just the shiny things that distracted me (piece of tinfoil), but now the olfactory buffet is foremost and (shiny things) have become (man scent). I find myself perusing body lines under shirts/jackets/pants with lowered eyelids and a lopsided grin on my face. Watching the eyes - and some of the reaction I get when I look directly into their faces is hilarious. I have to wonder what expression I'm wearing. Voices - strong yet soft, and an accent is even better. And the hands, man, a great pair of hands will melt me.
Overwhelmed with sensations repressed too long for someone of my base nature. And I must admit, struggling to get a "mature" handle on them, while truly enjoying the "kid in a candy shop" adventure of the whole process. I 'm dreaming all the time now - and the return of the sex dreams like I haven't since my 20s is giving me insomnia. My nipples are so sensitive that if I brush them with my OWN damn arm - in a winter coat, it becomes an issue. My whole fucking parsing section of my brain is a double entendre.
And there is no way, I mean NO WAY, I would even attempt to interrupt the process at this point. That would wrack me.
So on I go an infinitely passionate slightly kooky sherman tank on double estrogen, just hoping I don't make so many mistakes this time.
The choice to remain celibate began as an option to figure my own shit out. Having finally realized the optimum relationship - that being one that ends with my dignity, relative emotional capacity, and wallet still in hand, as well as several friends to lean on should the need arise, (my habit was to render all other relationships null & void in the pursuit and maintenance of my single intimate relationship) I decided I needed to figure out who the fuck I was at that point, and what was it that I actually wanted to do with the rest of my life. Unfortunately, I may have taken it a tad too far.
The immense personal growth and other successes both creative and financial that I have enjoyed in the ensuing years notwithstanding, I am fair sure now that the last 2 maybe three years have been pure repression due to lack of risk-taking value and fear of failure, peppered with the tasteless truth that I sure as hell didn't want to sleep with what I perceived in the mirror.
Whoa now. Calm yourselves. Let's be honest - we are daily bombarded with the north american image/supposed standard of beauty, so there can be no denying that it will warp some of us - especially when the tide of self confidence is at its lowest and one has detached herself from any intimate relationship for a LONG damn time.
Add to that the true nature of the woman in question, a lusty wench who has embraced the touch and taste and smell of sex since her teens, and had never previously been celibate for mare than - oh I don't know - 6 months tops after a particularly heartbreaking badly ended marriage, and you get an anarchic chaotic pheremonal mess of released estrogenic proportions not often seen in this drear and often passion less society.
So here I am. The urge to merge creating a melodic line with my heartbeat and echoing down my spine with every freaking step I take. It was bad enough (button) when it was just the shiny things that distracted me (piece of tinfoil), but now the olfactory buffet is foremost and (shiny things) have become (man scent). I find myself perusing body lines under shirts/jackets/pants with lowered eyelids and a lopsided grin on my face. Watching the eyes - and some of the reaction I get when I look directly into their faces is hilarious. I have to wonder what expression I'm wearing. Voices - strong yet soft, and an accent is even better. And the hands, man, a great pair of hands will melt me.
Overwhelmed with sensations repressed too long for someone of my base nature. And I must admit, struggling to get a "mature" handle on them, while truly enjoying the "kid in a candy shop" adventure of the whole process. I 'm dreaming all the time now - and the return of the sex dreams like I haven't since my 20s is giving me insomnia. My nipples are so sensitive that if I brush them with my OWN damn arm - in a winter coat, it becomes an issue. My whole fucking parsing section of my brain is a double entendre.
And there is no way, I mean NO WAY, I would even attempt to interrupt the process at this point. That would wrack me.
So on I go an infinitely passionate slightly kooky sherman tank on double estrogen, just hoping I don't make so many mistakes this time.
Oct 23, 2009
question of the day
Which is worse: food obsessions or sex obsessions?
To me they are both oral, aural, and olfactoral. They are interactive activities. They may or may not have some underlying meaning OR they could just be simple pleasurable.
I loved sex - great raunchy fucking each other against the door, on the stairs, in the elevator, the car, the park wherever, even a bed occasionally:) Great sucking smooshing slurping friction noises and the sweet salty tang of passion's sweat. The joy, the urge, that rampant need to get THERE - oh yes and THERE .... and the warm fuzzy cuddle or quick straightening of the accessories. Here there and everywhere, french lace lingerie under grey sweatpants and old rock tshirt, stockings and garters under jeans, and underwires and heels. Always.
I turned it off November 14, 2003. DDay - deadtotheworld day, notgoingthere day, damnhimtohell day, disgustedwithmyself day, don'twantotbeacougar day.
I had entered into a casual but monogamous relationship which when it was over 2 and half years later, left me for the first time in my life, with my dignity, wallet, and family intact. Can you believe it!
I was still dumped - on my freaking birthday, after I had just lost 30 pounds on Atkin's and was down to a size 18 - and for a woman 10 years my senior no less! Talk about knickers in a twist. Sure they had unrequited history from their 20s and 30s - neighbor couples who were best friends and had the hots for the OTHER spouse - but you just didn't act on that sort of thing back then. heavy sigh. Anf though he couldn't have picked a worse day, at least he was honest and didn't muck about first and tell me later, just explained that he thought he might still have "feelings" for her.
I have a "Do not share." policy, so in the end I gues I sort of made the decision to end it - that's just so fucked.
Either way, in a large blue funk and at the originations of my 65 day binge-o-rama my girlfriends dragged me to the Grey Cup tent - where I allowed myself to be picked up by this really hot guy - another story for later - only to discover in the am that he was 26. I'm glad he was older than my 24 year old daughter. It was fun, I had my night of desirable verification.
And then I turned it off. Done Day
The eating replaced it I think - well it had always been there - I enjoy cooking and eating as much as sex - but I think when I shut off the sex it kicked the food compulsion into high gear. I hurt my back in Jan 2004, hello Size 20 In 2005 lots of family problems and $$$ and I ate myself into size 22. Sort of maintained in 2006, but 2007 I wracked my knee at belly dance class - trying to shed some of the weight and ended up with my knee scoped in Jan 2008 - size 24. About 50 pounds a size.
But I don't want a "boyfriend". I don't want a "relationship". I think I just want someone who is casually monogamous to go out with maybe once every 2 weeks and have dinner, do a little dancing and then howl at the moon. Breakfast and Cya in the am.
In the meantime - it's shut your damn mouth - no you can't eat that - only this many calories and I'll work on subsuming the food compulsion. So far 31 pounds since Mid August. Should be down a size by Mid November.
To me they are both oral, aural, and olfactoral. They are interactive activities. They may or may not have some underlying meaning OR they could just be simple pleasurable.
I loved sex - great raunchy fucking each other against the door, on the stairs, in the elevator, the car, the park wherever, even a bed occasionally:) Great sucking smooshing slurping friction noises and the sweet salty tang of passion's sweat. The joy, the urge, that rampant need to get THERE - oh yes and THERE .... and the warm fuzzy cuddle or quick straightening of the accessories. Here there and everywhere, french lace lingerie under grey sweatpants and old rock tshirt, stockings and garters under jeans, and underwires and heels. Always.
I turned it off November 14, 2003. DDay - deadtotheworld day, notgoingthere day, damnhimtohell day, disgustedwithmyself day, don'twantotbeacougar day.
I had entered into a casual but monogamous relationship which when it was over 2 and half years later, left me for the first time in my life, with my dignity, wallet, and family intact. Can you believe it!
I was still dumped - on my freaking birthday, after I had just lost 30 pounds on Atkin's and was down to a size 18 - and for a woman 10 years my senior no less! Talk about knickers in a twist. Sure they had unrequited history from their 20s and 30s - neighbor couples who were best friends and had the hots for the OTHER spouse - but you just didn't act on that sort of thing back then. heavy sigh. Anf though he couldn't have picked a worse day, at least he was honest and didn't muck about first and tell me later, just explained that he thought he might still have "feelings" for her.
I have a "Do not share." policy, so in the end I gues I sort of made the decision to end it - that's just so fucked.
Either way, in a large blue funk and at the originations of my 65 day binge-o-rama my girlfriends dragged me to the Grey Cup tent - where I allowed myself to be picked up by this really hot guy - another story for later - only to discover in the am that he was 26. I'm glad he was older than my 24 year old daughter. It was fun, I had my night of desirable verification.
And then I turned it off. Done Day
The eating replaced it I think - well it had always been there - I enjoy cooking and eating as much as sex - but I think when I shut off the sex it kicked the food compulsion into high gear. I hurt my back in Jan 2004, hello Size 20 In 2005 lots of family problems and $$$ and I ate myself into size 22. Sort of maintained in 2006, but 2007 I wracked my knee at belly dance class - trying to shed some of the weight and ended up with my knee scoped in Jan 2008 - size 24. About 50 pounds a size.
But I don't want a "boyfriend". I don't want a "relationship". I think I just want someone who is casually monogamous to go out with maybe once every 2 weeks and have dinner, do a little dancing and then howl at the moon. Breakfast and Cya in the am.
In the meantime - it's shut your damn mouth - no you can't eat that - only this many calories and I'll work on subsuming the food compulsion. So far 31 pounds since Mid August. Should be down a size by Mid November.
Oct 8, 2009
what are you looking at?
alright kiddies. how many of us are there that are too fat or too thin? and I mean 50 pounds overweight or more and maybe 30 pounds underweight or more or less? the only difference is that you can be more overweight pound wise because it's and add to situation and you'd be amazed at what a body will suffer to carry before the pump goes, while when you're underweight there is a limit as to how much can be taken away - and live.
So here are the questions that have tied into week old reefknots in wet string licorice:
are any of us happy the way you are? me - no.
is there a physical reason for your individual mass issues? me - no.
are you aware of what the psychological reasons for the problem are? I think so.
if you are aware of the psych issues - what are you doing about them? me - working on self acceptance.
why are we still sneaking/binging/starving/stuffing/slowly killing ourselves?
I DON"T FUCKING KNOW!!!!!!
and how many of you can really look at yourselves in the mirror - starkers? how do you feel? like you want to strut your stuff on the catwalk? hardly. I figure if I can't stand to look at it - see I said "it" instead of "me" - objectification and distancing .... then I figure no else wants to either, which gives me another reason to eat.
dirty bitching self renewing cycle
I've been the fat happy buddha for the last 5 years and I am so done with it. The bad part is that in order to lose HALF of me - oh yeah - I have to really focus on everything that goes in my mouth, not a happy time for a compulsive addictive semi-multiple personality - let me tell you.
So over the next few months this blog may not be for you. I am using it as the dump and it may not be pretty. You've been warned.
Here is my minimizing manifesto:
1. Since I need to eat 2800+ calories a day to maintain my weight - and I don't want to hear any gasps if you know the math - nor do I wish to see the number of actual pounds again, I am now only allowing myself 1500 healthy calories a day, which is plenty for a sedentary 150 pound 48 year old woman.
2. Eat at least 4 times a day.
3. Plenty of water and green tea.
4. Smaller portions, no more than 2 cups of food at a time - except for salad.
5. One cheat day every two weeks where I can have whatever the hell I want.
6. Avoid places that make me resist temptation because I'm not very good at it.
7. Be as much more active as I can given the jointly limitations I have at the moment.
8. Only get on the scale every 10 days or so and only first thing in the morning.
9. Do not run over the beautiful people with my car.
I am a tad obsessed at the moment. It's because I'm always hungry and I am not happy.
Unfortunately it's self inflicted and only self resolved.
So here are the questions that have tied into week old reefknots in wet string licorice:
are any of us happy the way you are? me - no.
is there a physical reason for your individual mass issues? me - no.
are you aware of what the psychological reasons for the problem are? I think so.
if you are aware of the psych issues - what are you doing about them? me - working on self acceptance.
why are we still sneaking/binging/starving/stuffing/slowly killing ourselves?
I DON"T FUCKING KNOW!!!!!!
and how many of you can really look at yourselves in the mirror - starkers? how do you feel? like you want to strut your stuff on the catwalk? hardly. I figure if I can't stand to look at it - see I said "it" instead of "me" - objectification and distancing .... then I figure no else wants to either, which gives me another reason to eat.
dirty bitching self renewing cycle
I've been the fat happy buddha for the last 5 years and I am so done with it. The bad part is that in order to lose HALF of me - oh yeah - I have to really focus on everything that goes in my mouth, not a happy time for a compulsive addictive semi-multiple personality - let me tell you.
So over the next few months this blog may not be for you. I am using it as the dump and it may not be pretty. You've been warned.
Here is my minimizing manifesto:
1. Since I need to eat 2800+ calories a day to maintain my weight - and I don't want to hear any gasps if you know the math - nor do I wish to see the number of actual pounds again, I am now only allowing myself 1500 healthy calories a day, which is plenty for a sedentary 150 pound 48 year old woman.
2. Eat at least 4 times a day.
3. Plenty of water and green tea.
4. Smaller portions, no more than 2 cups of food at a time - except for salad.
5. One cheat day every two weeks where I can have whatever the hell I want.
6. Avoid places that make me resist temptation because I'm not very good at it.
7. Be as much more active as I can given the jointly limitations I have at the moment.
8. Only get on the scale every 10 days or so and only first thing in the morning.
9. Do not run over the beautiful people with my car.
I am a tad obsessed at the moment. It's because I'm always hungry and I am not happy.
Unfortunately it's self inflicted and only self resolved.
May 9, 2009
Five oclock and bumper to bumper fumes billow horns bellow.
A pool of silence in the cacophony of rush hour traffic, alone in my car.
Alone is like being a river - it just goes on never ending,
slowly eroding the need for "the one",
desire sinking quietly into the riverbed to lay fallow and mostly unnoticed.
The longer it lasts, the easier it becomes not to make an effort to change it.
No one to answer to, no one to disappoint, self contained, self-alienated, cloistered.
Watching the thunderstorms of other's lives makes me tired sometimes.
A pool of silence in the cacophony of rush hour traffic, alone in my car.
Alone is like being a river - it just goes on never ending,
slowly eroding the need for "the one",
desire sinking quietly into the riverbed to lay fallow and mostly unnoticed.
The longer it lasts, the easier it becomes not to make an effort to change it.
No one to answer to, no one to disappoint, self contained, self-alienated, cloistered.
Watching the thunderstorms of other's lives makes me tired sometimes.
May 3, 2009
over sensitive
Today I'm being over sensitive - or maybe not. I know I do feel a bit left over and odd woman out. Is it reasonable for me to feel this way? Who knows. That doesn't really matter cause the feelings are still there. What a pathetic fucking creature I am.
Apr 24, 2009
after midnite - again...
Well here we are, my multiplicity of voices in my head with several of them trying to get out so that when I do speak I seem to be speaking in tongues and when I try to go to sleep one or the other of them is constantly NATTERING IN MY EAR WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP!
Not working.
So I'm a little crazy today.
I bought a new toilet seat and I can't get the old one off.
I've perused the ever growing pile of laundry in my room but I just bought some new duds so it'll wait another day or two.
I bought a new carpet with the Dao symbol on it for balance and couldn't center it correctly on the older carpet.
I remembered my vitamins and forgot my anti biotic.
I miss donuts and all things sugary and it is doing nothing for the figure.
I want my freaking kitchen done - NOW!!!!
The boys are moving to Victoria so they adopted the hyacinth to me - please don't let me kill it. Several of the plants suicided this winter.
I want to go camping but it's stilltoo cold.
I want a buddy with benefits and no liabilities but I'm too something to dump the poundage that would make that task so much simpler.
I cry at everything for no apparent reason, but I laugh at the same time.
Plans plans plans - procrastinate x 3
And then it's back to the cycle - damn I'm tired
Not working.
So I'm a little crazy today.
I bought a new toilet seat and I can't get the old one off.
I've perused the ever growing pile of laundry in my room but I just bought some new duds so it'll wait another day or two.
I bought a new carpet with the Dao symbol on it for balance and couldn't center it correctly on the older carpet.
I remembered my vitamins and forgot my anti biotic.
I miss donuts and all things sugary and it is doing nothing for the figure.
I want my freaking kitchen done - NOW!!!!
The boys are moving to Victoria so they adopted the hyacinth to me - please don't let me kill it. Several of the plants suicided this winter.
I want to go camping but it's stilltoo cold.
I want a buddy with benefits and no liabilities but I'm too something to dump the poundage that would make that task so much simpler.
I cry at everything for no apparent reason, but I laugh at the same time.
Plans plans plans - procrastinate x 3
And then it's back to the cycle - damn I'm tired
Apr 14, 2009
Been awhile
I was sick. Now I'm mostly better. I have whined enough.
Visited with family and had a great visit with dad, plated Dakar, took a short road trip and remortgaged the condo at a damn fine rate. I'm halfway through customizing the pattern for Abigail's wedding dress, I've at least started my taxes, and the nebulous plans for a kitchen seem to becoming a bit more tangible.
Yesterday I even made it to the pub to see my O'Hooligans, catch up on some lovin' from Miss Stacy, sunshine from Mistress Abigail, and hugs all'round Sang Nickless a happy bday at karaoke (it was all of us) - definitely not a solo performance. He had a pussy on his cake.
My desk is mostly caught up.
So why can I see nothing but this knee limping, muffin topped, waddle wagging, vulture-winged, bristly bitchy bitter old bag. Cause I am feeling old - a strange thing for me because I usually feel 8. The last few weeks mostly just sucked and not in a good way. A couple of hot flashes - my - THOSE are fun. The antibiotics I was on required me to eat 4 times a day and I'm sure that in the middle of trying to reduce the muffin top to tartlet size I have put on 10 pounds and nothing fits right now.
My favorite bra had a blowout and the wire actually scraped a gash in my side in its mad escape from my blouse, and the lingerie store has no replacements, nothing but horse harnesses = blech!!! It's not like I can go braless and still have a working back and any dignity. I have chocolate (70% cocoa sugar free) stashed in my purse/desk/backpack and I haven't done that in years, and I am sure I've smoked 4 packs of smokes since last Monday when I have been down to about a pack a week for the last 6 months.
But I did manage 6 minutes in the standup yesterday and that was fabulous.
Imagine you can now hear George Carlin's 7 words.
Visited with family and had a great visit with dad, plated Dakar, took a short road trip and remortgaged the condo at a damn fine rate. I'm halfway through customizing the pattern for Abigail's wedding dress, I've at least started my taxes, and the nebulous plans for a kitchen seem to becoming a bit more tangible.
Yesterday I even made it to the pub to see my O'Hooligans, catch up on some lovin' from Miss Stacy, sunshine from Mistress Abigail, and hugs all'round Sang Nickless a happy bday at karaoke (it was all of us) - definitely not a solo performance. He had a pussy on his cake.
My desk is mostly caught up.
So why can I see nothing but this knee limping, muffin topped, waddle wagging, vulture-winged, bristly bitchy bitter old bag. Cause I am feeling old - a strange thing for me because I usually feel 8. The last few weeks mostly just sucked and not in a good way. A couple of hot flashes - my - THOSE are fun. The antibiotics I was on required me to eat 4 times a day and I'm sure that in the middle of trying to reduce the muffin top to tartlet size I have put on 10 pounds and nothing fits right now.
My favorite bra had a blowout and the wire actually scraped a gash in my side in its mad escape from my blouse, and the lingerie store has no replacements, nothing but horse harnesses = blech!!! It's not like I can go braless and still have a working back and any dignity. I have chocolate (70% cocoa sugar free) stashed in my purse/desk/backpack and I haven't done that in years, and I am sure I've smoked 4 packs of smokes since last Monday when I have been down to about a pack a week for the last 6 months.
But I did manage 6 minutes in the standup yesterday and that was fabulous.
Imagine you can now hear George Carlin's 7 words.
Apr 6, 2009
monday and back to work
At least I feel like working, however my hand eye coordination certainly leaves something to be desired this morning. Which sucks because when you're a writer using a keyboard ...
However - I am not behind, my boss seems happy with me, and it's only a 3 days week what with Easter and all, and all. Sorry, but since I read Catcher in the Rye a month ago, that "and all" seems to pop up more regularly than "Eh!" for a Canadian. By the hundred little gods, that book sucked.
Well, enough slacking, done my break and it's back to work y'all. Catch you this weekend.
However - I am not behind, my boss seems happy with me, and it's only a 3 days week what with Easter and all, and all. Sorry, but since I read Catcher in the Rye a month ago, that "and all" seems to pop up more regularly than "Eh!" for a Canadian. By the hundred little gods, that book sucked.
Well, enough slacking, done my break and it's back to work y'all. Catch you this weekend.
Mar 27, 2009
well...
Music makes me cry this week, and movies, and the occasional commercial. Always bright on the outside, my inside worlds are colliding, and the destruction is starting to spread. Regret weighs me down, guilt shrivels my desire to talk to people, sweet sleep is a surcease to pain long buried and newly resurrected, if only I could grasp it more than a couple of hours at a time.
Plans made and tossed aside for what seemed like good reasons at the time and now seem to be flimsy rationalizations. Wasted resources, relationships, and opportunities gibber their derision behind my eyes, rubbing my nose in my own misjudgements.
It's so quiet that I can hear all the voices chittering at me at the same time, a cacophonous dirge of drivel I can do nothing about. I thought I was past this.
Plans made and tossed aside for what seemed like good reasons at the time and now seem to be flimsy rationalizations. Wasted resources, relationships, and opportunities gibber their derision behind my eyes, rubbing my nose in my own misjudgements.
It's so quiet that I can hear all the voices chittering at me at the same time, a cacophonous dirge of drivel I can do nothing about. I thought I was past this.
Mar 20, 2009
ya- fuckin - hoo!
First day of spring and Mr. Winter is dying another death. Oh welcome RA, wake up Gaia, it's your turn and about bloody time it is. Open the windows! I removed the storms in the porch. I will have bare feet in my mephistos today. It's going up to 2 degrees. Yes, above zero. No socks required.
I need light, and sun, and friendly voices (besides the ones in my head and THEY'VE been cooped up waaay too long) and maybe an apertif on a deck some where. Savia java this aft. Footloose and fancy free for the weekend.
I need light, and sun, and friendly voices (besides the ones in my head and THEY'VE been cooped up waaay too long) and maybe an apertif on a deck some where. Savia java this aft. Footloose and fancy free for the weekend.
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